


Home Away From Home

by bepreparedf0rhell



Category: Motionless in White (Band)
Genre: Cute bfs, Fluff, Insecurity, M/M, Smut, justin being made of absolutely nothing but boyfriend material
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:27:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26946670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bepreparedf0rhell/pseuds/bepreparedf0rhell
Summary: In which Justin and Ricky have been separated because of quarantine. When they see each other again, Ricky's a little insecure about his body and Justin is determined to make him feel as loved as he possibly can.
Relationships: Justin Morrow/Ricky "Horror" Olson
Comments: 20
Kudos: 16





	Home Away From Home

**Author's Note:**

> SO. I just couldn't get the Brain Worms to let me finish the second Kinktober prompt I was meant to. Instead, I've only had the motivation to work on this and something else that I will burden the world with at a later date. 
> 
> This fic was entirely inspired by [this](https://64.media.tumblr.com/0ebba7bce004c37013c690f46f93c35d/4486d13ab41eafa4-f6/s1280x1920/29057525d9be753bbd3dfd6a3e7089fb4a0863f7.jpg) photo that Vin posted and started out as a silly idea passed around without any real intent behind it but became so much more and now it is my actual child and I will cry if anyone doesn't like it (not really but kind of???). 
> 
> They're just cute idiots and I don't know what more to say than that tbh.

“You still with me?” Justin’s voice is low and raspy as he questions his phone where it’s lying on his pillow beside his head. He’s only got one eye open, mostly asleep.

“Yeah,” comes the quiet reply, and Justin’s other eye opens and he props himself up on an elbow to try and stay awake. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he says, smiling to himself. He knows the exact tone he’s going to get in response and sure enough, a few moments later it comes. 

“I just miss you,” Ricky says in what Justin likes to lovingly refer to as his ‘sleepy whine’. Ricky hates the phrase, of course, so Justin never says it out loud. But, still. 

“I know,” Justin whispers. “I miss you too, babe,” he assures him, flopping down onto his back, staring at the ceiling. 

In reality, Justin doesn’t just miss him. In reality, Justin fucking aches for him. He misses him so much he can practically feel it in his bones. They’ve never, in the entire expanse of their relationship, spent this much time apart. When the virus hit and things got bad and suddenly it wasn’t safe to travel anymore, they’d ended up stranded on opposite ends of the country. Months had passed and different creative projects had kept them apart and now… now Justin misses his boy so much his eyes well up just at the thought. 

Ricky makes a small noise on the other end of the phone, snapping Justin out of his thoughts. He sniffles, ignoring the fact that his dick is standing straight up in the shorts he’s wearing. Not now, he wills at it, grunting uncomfortably as he shoves his hand down there, trying his best to tame it. 

“What? Tell me,” Justin says, and Ricky sighs heavily. More sleepy whine coming, if Justin had to guess. 

“It’s just… I’m fucking jealous, I guess,” Ricky admits, and Justin has to force himself not to snort out a laugh. He chokes on it in his throat, doing his best to mask it as a sneeze. 

“Of what?” Justin asks when he regains his composure, not at all surprised to find that Ricky barely seems to have noticed. 

“You’re spending all this time with Bryce and I’m just… I’m jealous and I wish I was there,” Ricky says, and Justin smiles again.

“Rick, Bryce is just-,” he tries, but Ricky cuts him off.

“I know. I know he’s just your roommate and your friend. I know, but that’s not the point. The point is he’s getting to spend all this time with you and I’m out here just fucking… lonely,” Ricky whimpers, and Justin sighs. 

“I know. I’m sorry, babe. I don’t really know what to do. I can’t get away from recording right now and I know you’ve got practice with the other guys for the stream at the end of the month. I’ll be there in a week, though,” Justin reminds him. Ricky’s quiet for a long while, and for a second Justin almost wonders if he hung up on him. 

“I know,” he sighs eventually, though, and Justin smiles. 

“I’ve gotta try and get some sleep. Gotta be up early, y’know,” Justin mumbles, yawning. Ricky makes a little noise of discontent, but Justin’s barely able to acknowledge it. Suddenly, he really is exhausted. 

“Okay. I miss you,” Ricky reminds him one more time. Justin nods. 

“I miss you too.”

* * * * * * *

As Justin’s Uber pulls up to Ricky’s apartment building the next day, he can’t get his hands to stop shaking.

Of course, he’d been fully aware when he and Rick were speaking the night before that it wouldn’t be another agonizingly long week before they were together again. He’d known for a few weeks that he was coming earlier than Ricky thought he was. It had actually been Ryan’s idea; it had come up completely randomly as he and Justin were on the phone about something unrelated. Basically, Ryan had informed him that his boyfriend was being absolutely insufferable without him and had offered to pay for his plane ticket himself. 

Now that he’s outside Ricky’s apartment, though, he’s nervous. What if… well, he’s not sure, but _what if_? 

A text with Ryan’s name and contact photo buzzes into his phone where it sits on his lap as the car stops, snapping Justin out of his thoughts. 

_‘You make it ok?’_

_‘Yeah, dude. Outside R’s place now. Nervous for some reason?’_

Justin types his reply as the Uber driver grunts seemingly uncomfortably from the front seat. Only then does Justin realize that the dude’s right - he’s probably been sitting stone still in the back seat for at least a minute. Hell, the driver may’ve even said something Justin had completely missed. 

“Oh. Uh, thanks, man. Appreciate it,” he mumbles, stepping out of the car. The driver pops the trunk and Justin grabs his couple bags and the bouquet of half-dead roses he’d been able to scrounge up at the airport, sitting them on the curb. Justin’s phone buzzes again.

_‘I talked to him this morning - he’s got no fucking clue and he’s missing you HARD, dude. Like, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him so sad. Don’t be nervous, go kiss ur goddamn boyfriend, idiot.’_

Justin rolls his eyes at Ryan’s text, but he’s right. Of course he’s got nothing to be nervous about. He glances up at the apartment building in front of him, immediately able to place which one’s Ricky’s. He smiles, surveying the Halloween decorations they’d put up together almost an entire year before. There’s a big inflatable jack-o-lantern on the balcony, along with a life-size skeleton that they’d zip-tied to the outside of the railing. Somehow, he’s not surprised at all that Ricky’s left them up this whole time. 

When he knocks on the door a few minutes later, Justin’s not at all surprised that he can clearly hear Ricky playing the guitar from inside the apartment. He knows Rick’s been working on stuff for an upcoming album that they haven’t even talked about yet. In fact, that’s one of Justin’s favorite things about Ricky - he’s _always_ moving, always doing something, always playing or writing or working on whatever his next project’s meant to be. There are times when Justin has to drag him away and force him to sit still and watch a movie with him or whatever. Quite frankly, it’s adorable.

Ricky obviously doesn’t hear the knock. The guitar riff he’s playing doesn’t stop and Justin doesn’t hear any other movement from the apartment. Without really thinking about it, Justin tries the doorknob, smiling when it’s unlocked. He sneaks into the apartment as quietly as he can manage, freezing and rolling his eyes at himself when he damn near knocks the lamp off the table Ricky keeps by the door almost immediately. 

“Fuck,” he grumbles, steadying the lamp and dropping his bags. Ricky keeps playing, and Justin decides he probably didn’t hear him. He tiptoes toward the spare bedroom that Ricky mostly uses as a makeshift studio and stops outside the door. 

Oh god, there he is. Justin can’t keep his eyes from welling up at the sight of him. Jesus christ, he feels like the wind’s been knocked out of him. He’s never literally gone weak at the knees because of a partner before, but as he stands there spying on Ricky - _his Ricky_ \- while he unsuspectingly plays whatever it is he’s playing, Justin’s pretty sure that if he wasn’t holding the bouquet of roses and already trying desperately not to stab himself on the thorns, he’d probably fall right the fuck down then and there. 

As always, Ricky looks so small under his guitar, and Justin has to close his eyes to calm the bulge that erupts in his pants. Not right now. Ricky’s got a pair of chunky headphones shoved down over his ears and his long faded-black hair is up in a messy bun on the top of his head, his blonde roots showing significantly. He’s wearing a black t-shirt, and Justin can’t help but notice how one of his own hoodies is draped across the back of the computer chair Rick’s sitting in like he’d just taken it off or something. Ricky’s long delicate fingers play the guitar with precision, painstakingly striking each note and chord and again, Justin considers just falling to the floor and lying there to listen to him play. 

Justin lets out a dreamy sigh, leaning his head on the doorframe. God, he desperately wants to walk into the room and pull Ricky up off his feet into the tightest embrace he’s ever felt. But also… also, he just kind of loves standing there just watching him do his thing. 

A minute passes and Ricky stops playing. Justin’s hands start shaking again when the headphones come off a second later and Rick stands, stretching his arms above his head. He yawns, typing something on the keyboard in front of him into a word doc. Justin’s desperately trying to formulate a plan for saying something that might not absolutely scare the shit out of Ricky, but it doesn’t matter. 

Before Justin even has the beginning of a sentence in his head, Ricky turns toward him and lets out a small yelp in surprise. His eyes go wide as recognition settles over him and before Justin knows it, Ricky’s on him, grabbing at him and pulling him close. Justin grunts, dropping the roses on the floor as he leans down to meet Ricky’s lips in the middle. 

Ricky lets out this little moan as their lips meet and Justin’s head is absolutely fucking empty except for one thing, so that’s what he does. He picks Ricky up bridal-style and carries him to the bedroom. Rick smiles into the kiss, tugging at Justin’s hair, scratching his nails over the back of his neck. 

“God,” Justin groans, dropping Ricky onto his back on the bed. He can’t help but climb on top of him, trailing kisses up his arm as he heads for his lips. Ricky laughs quietly, his blue eyes painfully bright when Justin finally reaches his face. There are tears threatening to fall and Justin’s desperate to keep them from doing so. Even if it’s because he’s happy to see him, dammit, Justin doesn’t want him crying at all. 

“Please don’t cry,” he whispers, leaning down and kissing both of Ricky’s eyelids gently. Ricky sniffles, and when Justin looks up at him again, he’s pretty sure they’re both about to be crying just because of the look on his face. His brows are knit together and he doesn’t look blissful anymore; in fact, he looks upset. At once, Justin clambers off of him and sits heavily on the edge of the bed. 

“I’m sorry,” Ricky whimpers, and Justin shakes his head. A million things run through his mind and his own eyes get misty, but he doesn’t let himself say anything yet. Ricky is quiet for a long moment, and Justin feels like his head is going to explode. Finally, he can’t take it. 

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks, and Ricky takes a deep breath but shakes his head firmly. 

“Of course not. No, of course not. God, I’m so fucking happy to see you, J, _so_ fucking happy. I missed you so much. I just… I, uh, would’ve cleaned myself up some if I knew you were coming, I guess,” Ricky says quietly, sounding more shy than Justin thinks he’s ever heard him. He quirks an eyebrow, looking him up and down. 

“Whaddya mean?” Justin asks, shrugging. “You look beautiful, just like you always do,” he says, and watches as a tear slips down Ricky’s cheek. He raises his hand slowly, swiping it away with a thumb. Ricky grabs his wrist as he goes to pull it away, taking the hand between both of his. Even both of Ricky’s hands are barely as big as Justin’s one and it’s taking everything in Justin’s gut to keep his dick from reacting to that fact. 

“I just… I don’t know, my hair’s all grown out and I’ve gained some weight and I just…” Ricky trails off, and Justin shakes his head. He’s not sure what exactly he’d been expecting Ricky to say, but somehow neither of those thoughts had even kind of crossed his mind. 

“Oh, baby…” Justin whispers, reaching for him. “You… I’m sorry you feel insecure but _god_ , Rick, you’re fucking gorgeous, and I love you just the way you fuckin’ are, no matter what,” Justin tells him, trying his absolute best to make his voice sound as reassuring as possible. In reality, Justin’s got no clue how to make Ricky feel better - hell, he doesn’t even know if he _can_ , but the sorrowful look on his face is breaking Justin’s heart and his only other idea is to go outside and lasso the goddamn sun out of the sky to give to him if he doesn’t cheer up a little. 

Luckily, Ricky lets Justin pull him close, cuddles in underneath his arm. 

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Ricky whispers, sighing heavily into the fabric of Justin’s hoodie. Justin reaches up to tuck a piece of his hair that’s fallen out of his bun behind his ear and nestles his head on top of his. 

“Me too,” Justin assures him, closing his eyes. “Wait!” he halfway yells a second later, making Ricky jump. “Just hang on.”

Justin slips out of Ricky’s embrace, making his way back out to the hallway. He picks the dropped roses up off the floor, wishing they were a little nicer. The red of them has started to brown and they’re droopy, flopping over the edges of the plastic they’re wrapped in. He bites his lip nervously as he walks back into the bedroom and holds them out to Ricky, whose face immediately lights up at the sight of them. 

“You brought me roses?” Ricky asks, his eyes full of tears again. 

“Yeah. Sorry they’re… fucked up,” Justin says quietly, and Ricky shakes his head. 

“I’m not. They’re perfect,” he says, burying his nose in them and inhaling deeply. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Justin tosses back, smiling brightly at him as he watches him sniff them again. Ricky catches him staring, holding his gaze. Something in his eyes has shifted, though Justin’s not exactly sure what it is. 

“I missed you,” Ricky says thoughtfully. Justin smiles. 

“I know. I missed you too, babe.”

“I want you,” Ricky whispers, and Justin takes a deep breath. The three words are enough to make him fully hard in his pants again, but he tries to ignore it again, feeling like Ricky’s got a ‘but’ coming. 

Ricky puts the roses down on the nightstand next to the bed and comes to stand in front of Justin, who parts his knees immediately to oblige him. Justin lives for these rare little moments when Ricky is taller than him and he angles his brown eyes up at him. 

Ricky’s eyes are closed, face scrunched up in thought. Justin wants to reach up and touch the little wrinkles formed into his nose but stops himself, afraid it might influence whatever Ricky’s thinking. Justin doesn’t want to push anything, doesn’t want Ricky doing anything unless he’s fully comfortable with it. 

“I’m just… nervous,” Ricky whispers shyly, and Justin almost whimpers out loud. He’s never heard Ricky sound so small, so unsure. 

“We don’t have to do a thing other than spend time together if you don’t want to. I mean fuck, I’ll leave if you don’t even want to do that,” Justin tells him, and it’s true. It’s all about Ricky. Whatever he needs, Justin’ll break his back trying to make it happen. 

“Of course I don’t want you to leave. Not at all,” Ricky says, circling his arms around Justin’s neck and leaning forward into him. Justin stretches his own arms around Ricky’s waist and turns his head, pressing his face into the worn-in fabric of Ricky’s t-shirt. 

“It’s not you. I’m only nervous that I might not look the same naked as I did before,” Rick mumbles, and Justin can feel the words rumble through his stomach. He closes his eyes, swallows hard. The boy is breaking his fucking heart and he genuinely barely even knows how to respond. He just wants him to feel better.

“We don’t have to-,” Justin starts again, but Ricky cuts him off.

“I want to. God, I fucking want to.”

“What do you want me to do?” Justin asks gently, pretty sure it would be much easier for Ricky to just tell him outright. Rick’s quiet for a few long moments and Justin closes his eyes, listening to him breathe through his stomach. 

“I want… I want _you_ ,” Ricky says again, and this time he doesn’t sound unsure like he did before - now he just sounds almost needy and Justin has to blink hard to keep himself from just jumping him. 

“Are you sure?” he asks, and Ricky steps back, levels him with a stare that Justin immediately recognizes. It’s one he’s seen a million times and he knows exactly what it means. 

“C’mere,” Justin whispers, letting go of Ricky’s waist and raising both his hands to his face. He takes it as gently as he can manage, pulling him down and kissing him tenderly. 

Ricky breaks the kiss to pull Justin’s hoodie and t-shirt over his head, grabbing his hand and pulling him up so that they can both get into bed. Once they’re horizontal with the covers over them, Ricky leans back in and reconnects their lips, running his hand up Justin’s torso from just above the waistband of his jeans up to his chest, making Justin involuntarily let out a whine. He hadn’t realized just how touch-starved he’d become in Ricky’s absence, but apparently it had been very. Without really meaning to, he arches his back into Ricky’s touch, butterflies tearing at the walls of his stomach when he feels Ricky smile into his lips. 

Justin raises a hand and tucks Ricky’s long tendrils hair behind his ear, petting it down as tenderly as he can manage. He’s trying his best not to get overwhelmed, not to let himself take over the situation like he usually does, but then it hits him - _Ricky’s not the only one overthinking the situation_. 

Justin had preoccupied himself so much with making Ricky as comfortable as possible that he was now pretty sure all he’d really done was make him more unsure. It’s simple, really. Ricky’d said multiple times that he wanted him, so why the _fuck_ wasn’t Justin just giving himself to him?

Mustering all the conscious thought he’s able to gather, Justin breaks the kiss and pulls himself up on an elbow, pushing Ricky so that he’s on his back. Ricky raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything, watching as Justin clumsily climbs on top of him. Justin’s still a little hesitant, but he knows damn well Ricky will tell him if he’s doing something he doesn’t want, plus the fact that his brain is about to fucking short-circuit if he doesn’t get off soon.

Ricky still doesn’t say anything, just looks up at Justin with those big blue eyes and Justin can’t hold it back a second longer. He leans down and trails kisses down Ricky’s jawline to his neck, stopping to kiss it softly before sinking his teeth into it a second later. Ricky lets out this little _‘oh, fuck’_ that makes Justin just about go completely feral, smiling as he trails little bites down Ricky’s neck, wanting to get to his collarbone, annoyed when he’s blocked by his t-shirt. 

He grunts, moving so that he’s straddling Ricky’s hips on his knees. Ricky follows him up and Justin catches his lips in another kiss, grabbing the bottom hem of Ricky’s shirt. He tugs on it and Ricky raises his arms, the look in his eyes shifted as Justin tosses it onto the floor. 

“You’re beautiful,” Justin whispers, pushing Ricky back down into the pillow and grinding his hips downward. He can feel that Ricky’s just as hard as he is through the layers of both of their pants and refuses to give him even a second to jump back into his head. Ricky’s eyes close and he reaches for Justin, nails digging into his arms and pulling him back down towards him. 

Justin gets in the bites he’d wanted on Ricky’s collarbone, peppering them across the expanse of his chest and downward. Ricky’s already wiggling underneath him, fiddling with the sweatpants he’s wearing and trying to force them down. Justin smiles into his sternum, reaching down to help him accomplish his goal. Justin’s able to get the waistband down one-handed, all while still kissing his way down to Ricky’s hips. But, before letting himself look downward, he makes his way back to Ricky’s lips, stopping to take note of the look on his face. His eyes are closed, long lashes draped down onto his cheeks. The bun in his hair is lopsided, sitting in a mess off to one side and he’s breathing heavy, patiently waiting for Justin to make his next move. 

“Please,” Ricky whispers while Justin watches him, the word slipping through his kiss-swollen lips in a way that makes Justin feel like putting his head through the wall behind the bed. 

“I’ll take care of you,” he promises, moving so that he’s lying beside Ricky again. Rick’s eyes flutter open, clearly annoyed by his absence. Justin doesn’t give him a chance to pout, though, because a second later he dives right in and wraps his hand around Ricky’s dick, making him let out a little squeak of surprise. 

Justin smiles, working his hand up and down Ricky’s length a few times before letting go of it and raising a couple of fingers to his own mouth. He’s just about to shove a couple of fingers into it when Ricky grabs his wrist and pulls it towards himself, licking Justin’s fingers slowly before putting them all the way into his mouth. Justin can’t help but let out a little groan, closing his eyes and willing himself to hold out for as long as he wants to. 

Once his fingers are fully slicked down, he moves his hand back down to Ricky, stopping for a couple more strokes of his dick before letting his fingers wander further. Rick moves to accommodate him, turning so that he’s on his side with his back to Justin. Justin obliges, finding Ricky’s hole and gently working in a finger. Ricky whines but leans back into it immediately, and though Justin doesn’t look over his shoulder, he’s pretty sure Ricky’s now got his own dick in his hand as well. 

Justin works in another finger and then another, immensely burdened by the fact that he’s still got pants on suddenly. He leaves Ricky, who groans loudly at him, his blue eyes turning on him full of fire. Justin smirks, shaking his head. 

“I can’t fuck you with my pants on, Rick,” he mumbles, and Ricky rolls his eyes, having apparently been expecting him to somehow. “Hang on.”

Justin scrambles out of the bed, knowing damn well there’s no way he’s going to be able to manage slipping out of his skinny jeans horizontally at the moment, and when he’s finally free of them and looks back at Ricky, he’s not at all surprised that he’s still watching him impatiently. 

He crawls back into bed and presses himself against Ricky’s back, kissing his shoulder. Normally he’d ask if Ricky was ready, but given the impatience and the fact that Ricky’s already wiggling against him in a way that’s practically pornographic on its own, he feels pretty good about just making the executive decision himself. 

Justin reaches down and lines them up, pushing into Ricky slowly. Ricky cries out and Justin just about loses consciousness. God, he feels so good and Justin’s missed him so much. Once Justin gets his rhythm going, his head pressed into Ricky’s neck and shoulder as he fucks into him, he wraps his arm around him and reaches for his dick, somehow mustering enough brain power to stroke it in time with his thrusts. Ricky’s already practically a puddle of whines and moans and Justin can feel his own orgasm building after just a few minutes. 

“Are you…” Ricky starts, cutting himself off with a loud moan. Justin smiles into his neck. “Are you close?” he manages a moment later, and Justin can do nothing but grunt an affirmative. “I’m…” Ricky tries to tell him, but a second later a different part of his body finishes the sentence. He comes into Justin’s hand, hot and fast, and it only takes a few more thrusts before Justin comes as well, biting into Ricky’s shoulder as he does so. 

Justin works them both through, pulling out and letting go of Ricky. Ricky sighs, flopping onto his back. Justin watches him, smiling. 

“Feel better?” he whispers. Ricky nods. 

“Yeah. Much. I’m sorry I was so in my head before. I know you don’t care about those things. I just… I do, more than I thought, I guess,” Ricky says, and Justin nods right back. 

“Don’t apologize. It happens. I’m just glad I could make you feel better,” Justin says with a shrug, leaning down to connect their lips again.

“Ryan told me you were coming early, by the way,” Ricky says with a chuckle, batting his eyelashes. Justin rolls his eyes, laughing with him. 

“Fucker,” he mumbles, shrugging. “At least you were happy to see me.”

“Very happy,” Ricky confirms, smiling again. “But you should know that I also knew you were staring at me while I played earlier. I could see your reflection in the computer screen, genius.”

“And here I thought I was being so sneaky,” Justin says, snorting out a laugh and attacking Ricky with wet kisses across his chest and neck. Rick yelps and erupts into giggles, his arms wrapping around Justin and pulling him closer.

**Author's Note:**

> wheresyoursavior.tumblr.com


End file.
